Absence of One
by SilentWitness
Summary: A short story on the pain of loss. Due to problems, I had to reload this story. Apologies to those who had commented, and thank you.


Once again the characters in this story go unnamed. It may be a little more confusing than my last one, though. If you have any problems, contact me and I'll clear up each person for you.  
Standard disclaimer - I don't own Daria, or any characters within.  
  
~Absence of One~  
-SilentWitness  
  
  
  
She closed her eyes.  
  
Two weeks had passed. The world was bright, sunny. The sun reflected harshly off of the fresh new snow and ice. Her eyes had shut in rebellion. It was too bright.   
  
She wanted no part of this. No part of the fresh, clean air that swirled around her. No part of the bright white and blue of brand new snowfall that had spread itself across her world. She could hear children laughing and teenagers chattering happily in the distance, as they made their way to school. She wanted no part of *that* either.   
  
It was a beautiful, glorious winter day.  
  
She opened her eyes.  
  
The air was bitingly cold. She shook visibly with a chill that reached through her bones and beyond, slowly numbing her body from the inside out. The sky was a murky grey, thick clouds looming ominously overhead, waiting. All around her stood trees, once bright and full of life, now dying, bare, stripped of the beauty they had once possessed, reaching out to her as she passed. The thick mud and slush made the seemingly endless trudge to school difficult.  
  
Yes, this is what her world was now. Dark, grey, and numb. This was where she belonged.  
  
It was an ugly, torturous winter day.   
  
People piled into the stark, narrow halls, pausing the take an item from one of the lockers that lined either side of the hall, or perhaps to put one in; to take a quick drink of lukewarm water from a fountain; to have a brief laugh with friends over something the rest knew nothing about; to slip in and out of the restrooms before they were late. Morning activity was buzzing with life.  
  
Stepping silently to her locker, she put her hand upon the combination lock. Her hand, moving on autopilot, twisted the knob around a few times, then pulled the little door open. She placed two books inside, and carefully removed two others as someone approached her locker.  
  
She closed her eyes.   
  
She could hear the person's voice, clear, shrill, cutting through the blurry fog of morning. It was familiar. It gave sort of a nervous chuckle, then spoke to her, dripping with sarcasm and barely contained disgust for the world around them, a world that dimmed and faded into silence as the voice spoke. The voice, so heavy with disdain for the idiots who contaminated life, was surprisingly gentle to her, caring. It understood her and she it.  
  
She opened her eyes.  
  
The young African American girl stood tentatively beside her, eyes full of concern - or pity - it didn't matter which. The girl spoke now, her voice soft and furry, concerned, but hurried, busy. It was hard to make out what she said, the buzz of noise in the background almost overwhelming the senses. To appease the girl, she nodded, mutely, and the girl gave bright smile and moved on to speak to another, her interest and care for others plainly evident in her voice, which soon faded, out of range.  
  
A bell rang, demanding the attention of all.  
  
She sighed and went to class.  
  
Most of the class was already inside, chatting, flirting, even sleeping before class started. There were two empty chairs. She approached one slowly, amid hushed stares from fellow classmates. Deliberately, she placed her bag on the ground and sat down, placing the books in her hand on the desk before her.  
  
She closed her eyes.  
  
Someone sat down at the empty desk beside her. Again the background sounds faded to complete silence as the voice spoke to her. The voice was wistful this time, maybe the teacher would have an accident before school and they'd get the rest of the year off, or maybe the school would burn down and they wouldn't have to endure this torture anymore, or maybe a blizzard would come and close down the schools for awhile, anything so that they wouldn't have to be here anymore. They both knew it would never happen, but for the time being, they were content just to speculate.  
  
She opened her eyes.  
  
The blond beauty sat at the desk beside her, staring at her with a slightly blank, but anxious stare, twirling the end of one pig-tail around her finger. Her voice was high and shrill as she squeaked out her worries. She didn't realize that a very brave effort was being made to ignore her, but was not able to succeed in blocking her out. Even the endless, rather loud, chatter of their classmates couldn't drown it out. The voice that could repel dogs kept on talking rapidly, waiting at slight intervals for a nod of response. She finally ended by giving a rediculas cheer in front of the class and smiling radiantly, believing she was an angel of sunshine to those around her.  
  
The teacher's voice sounded and the blond was forced to take her seat. Class began in earnest. She found it hard to concentrate. Hard to stay still. She had the sudden desire to get up, to pace the halls, to go searching for something. Something that was missing. She found it difficult to even hear the words coming from the teacher's mouth. At odd intervals, she felt all eyes upon her, expecting something from her, a response, perhaps, or an answer of some kind. She couldn't give them one. She could barely hang on at all.  
  
Somehow she made it through the class.  
  
She was told by someone to go to a different room. She allowed herself to be led there. She sat in a black chair facing a desk.   
  
She closed her eyes.  
  
A person greeted her as she came into the room and sat down behind the desk. The noisy students in the hall suddenly quieted, perhaps returning to class. The voice was sarcastic again, but filled with ironic humor. Holding up some cards, she commented, the laughed a little, making fun of someone else.   
  
She opened her eyes.  
  
The woman sat behind her desk watching her with a look which held barely contained boredom and disdain. Screaming voices from the hallway were the only noises which punctuated the carefully cultivated silence which hung between them. The woman finally sighed in disgust and in an attempt to cut this session short, asked one single question. When she received no answer, she marked down the word "difficult" in a notebook she had produced from seemingly nowhere, wrote up a yellow slip, placed it on the desk and left the room, saying sharply that the school day was not over and the class was waiting.  
  
Lunchtime. She sat alone at a table in the middle of the room. A full tray of cafeteria food sat in front of her. She looked at it silently for a few moments, but couldn't summon up an appetite for it.  
  
She closed her eyes.  
  
Someone sat down across from her, disdain for the food in front of them clear. The voice came again, telling her to be careful, after all, hadn't little Billy-across- the-street gone missing recently? The next comment suggested that maybe instead of nuclear warfare, they should just launch the cafeteria food at other countries. It'd probably be more effective.  
  
Amused, she opened her eyes.   
  
The girl was sitting, watching her silently. She looked at her, dark eyes framed by deep black makeup. Her face was unnaturally pale, exaggerated by dark lipstick, strands of wild raven hair which framed her face, and her usual black-as-death wardrobe. She sat silently, not betraying any emotion, except for her eyes. In them she clearly got her message across. At the slight nod of recognition and understanding, she stood and joined her friends, walking away without looking back.  
  
Somehow she made it through the rest of the school day. Even she wasn't sure how she did it.  
  
A slice of baked dough, bubbling tomato sauce and hot melted cheese sat untouched in front of her. Next to it rested a full container of fizzing soda. She hadn't even needed to order. They had known her on sight and had her order ready for her. After all, didn't she come here every day? Across from her sat the same meal. They'd set it down for the person whom they supposed would arrive in moments.  
  
She closed her eyes, waiting.  
  
The person finally came, standing beside the table for a moment. She could hear the voice asking if there was anything wrong, and suggesting they go back to a certain house after they finished eating. The voice became slightly concerned after receiving no response, and persisted cautiously in unearthing the problem. This was the usual procedure.  
  
She opened her eyes, ready to respond.  
  
They were standing next to her, looking down at her. One of the looked a little nervous, though concern also showed on his dark face. The other was just standing with a vacant look on his face. They tried to engage her in conversation for a few moments, but after failing, fell quiet. Silently she got up to leave, ignoring the query as to whether or not she was "gonna eat it".  
  
The walk home was silent and slow. Colder than she remembered. She wanted to lay down and fall asleep in the dirty white slush. A snowball hurled past her head, but she didn't notice. Her eyes were glued to the ground. One foot in front of the other. That was how she made it to her house.  
  
She didn't stop to talk, look or listen to anything as she walked through the door. She just walked forward, up the stairs, pausing only to turn into her room. She gave way to the trembling in her knees and let herself collapse onto the bed. Closing her eyes, she leaned up against the soft padding of her walls and fell into a deep sleep.   
  
Her dreams at first were nightmarish. Grizzly creatures with the faces of people she knew reaching out for her, gnarled hands alternately trying to grab her and crush her beneath their abnormally large girth. One finally grabbed her, sending her swirling into a sea of faces and and words which confused and frightened her. She landed firmly on the tip of a great precipice. Silently standing straight and tall, she looked into the brightness before her, not giving in to the shivers that threatened to take over her body.  
  
A dark shape was approaching.  
  
It was *her*. On the edge of the cliff the girl watched helplessly as the figure of the one person who she'd been waiting for, searching for, the one who'd been missing, approached her. Moisture dripped onto her hands as she raised them slowly. She was crying. That didn't matter. *She* was coming.  
  
She lifted her hands the rest of the way, reaching out to the figure before her. There was a jolt of sensation as the figure clutched her hands and landed gently beside her. She didn't let go.  
  
"You came," she said, vaguely aware of the tears that still rolled down her face and still uncaring, "You're here."  
  
"Of course," the figure answered, her voice, though almost ethereal, still containing heavy sarcasm, "Where else would I be?"  
  
"You left," she insisted, accusing softly, "...alone..."  
  
The figure turned soft eyes full of concern and pain towards her, "I know."  
  
They fell into a companionable silence, still holding onto each other, afraid of letting go. No words were needed any longer.  
  
A hushed darkness fell, and a chill, demanding wind broke forth.  
  
"Well my time's up," the figure commented with regret, "better get moving, you know me, always late for an appointment!"  
  
"or early, whatever," she agreed letting the old joke fall flat. She suddenly turned vulnerable eyes on the figure, the only person she'd ever let see any vulnerability. "I don't want you to leave," she whispered.  
  
The figure didn't answer. She just turned to leave, stopped only by the other's death grip on her hands.  
  
"Take me with you!" She demanded, one last desperate plea.  
  
The figure was silent a moment. "Jumping the gun a little are we? Nah, you'll join me soon enough, don't worry. Until then I'll be here," She placed a hand over her heart, "And here," She gestured around her, "You'll know where to find me."  
  
Her hands slipped free and she turned away again, rising slowly into the air.  
  
"Oh, hey give Princess Grace a message for me," She said, delaying her departure for another moment.  
  
"Okay.."  
  
"Tell her plaid is coming back into fashion," the figure grinned devilishly and winked, "I know!" She gave one last salute and was gone.  
  
Alone again, she stared after the figure for a long moment. Then she raised her hand and said goodbye to her best friend.  
  
She opened her eyes. Her cheeks were slightly raw where here tears had descended in two tracks. She felt a little calmer, perhaps she could face the day once again.  
  
She would see her friend again. They'd meet again in her dreams.  
  
She wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and softly left the room, closing the door behind her.  
  
Her sister's muffled scream could still be heard through the walls.   



End file.
